


First Date/Last Night

by Black_Hole_of_Procrastination



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1960s, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 09:27:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11033376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Black_Hole_of_Procrastination/pseuds/Black_Hole_of_Procrastination
Summary: This is not the night either of them expected, but with Rickon shipping out in a few hours, they’re both going to make it count. Dogfight AU/Vietnam War AU





	First Date/Last Night

FINALLY moving more of my tumblr fic here. This was loosely inspired by the film/musical 'Dogfight'. Accompanying edit can be found [here](http://blackholeofprocrastination.tumblr.com/post/154093924666/first-datelast-night-for). 

**First Date/Last Night**

****

_November 21, 1963_

“You ok?” she asks when he goes quiet for too long.

Rickon is walking slower than usual. He wants to drag whatever this is out as long as he possibly can. He smiles when he notices Shireen seems to have no problem with the pace he’s set, ambling beside him, every other step swaying her so close their shoulders almost brush. 

“Yeah,” Rickon answers, before adding teasingly, “Only my jaw’s a little sore. Got clocked by some girl tonight.”

Shireen raises an eyebrow but he can see a smile begin to tug at the corners of her mouth.

“You deserved it.”

“Yeah, yeah I did.” He huffs out a sheepish laugh.

Rickon knows he deserves a lot worst than a punch to the face for what he pulled earlier tonight. The Dogfight was a shit idea to begin with, but to have brought Shireen…

_I made her cry._

For a moment he thinks of his sisters, of Sansa and Arya, the women who raised him, and how disappointed they’d be with him.

_Arya’d have punched me somewhere else if she knew,_  Rickon thinks.

The guilt that’s been festering all night rises up and gnaws at Rickon’s insides. He’s not sure it’ll ever go away.

But then Shireen is swaying closer, one step, two steps, until she’s near enough to tuck her arm through his elbow, and all Rickon can think of his the warm weight of her arm looped through his own.

“This is me,” Shireen says when they arrive in front of her building much sooner than Rickon would like. She slips her arm free and Rickon walks her to the door.

He’s never done this before, but he’s seen enough movies to know this is the part where he’s supposed to say something real slick and move in to kiss the girl.

But Rickon doesn’t say anything. He just shoves his hands into his jacket pockets and glares at the pavement. 

It’s got to be past midnight. Somewhere out there, he knows Brandon and Beren are tearing it up. Rickon should be with them. It’s his last night for…well _everything_. He should be drinking, and chatting up girls, and raising hell, not hovering by Shireen’s stoop trying to scrape together some reason to keep her from walking through the front door just yet.

“I’ve got some records upstairs,” Shireen says at last, ducking her head shyly. “We’d have to be quiet because of my folks, but…do you want to come up and listen?”

“Yes,” Rickon answers before she’s even finished talking. Heat creeps into his face. It’s stupid to look so eager but he doesn’t have time to be cool.

He’s got eight hours left. He’s not going to waste them. 


End file.
